HOTSPUR (reading a letter)
“As for me, sir, I would be happy to be there because of the love I bear for your family.”
He would be happy to be here. Well, why isn’t he hare, then? He says he loves my family, but he clearly loves his barn more than our house. I’ll read on.
“Your plan is dangerous.”
That’s true, and it’s also dangerous to catch a cold, to sleep, to drink. But I tell you, my lord fool, we shall pluck a flower of safety from this thorn of danger.
“Your plan is dangerous; your allies untrustworthy; your timing poor; and your whole project too weak to counter so powerful an opponent.”
Is that so? Is that so? I’ll say it once again: you are a stupid, cowardly dog, and a liar. What an idiot this is!
By God, our plan is as good a plan as ever hatched, our allies loyal and firm. A good plan, good allies, and very promising; it’s an excellent plan, very good allies.
What a yellow-bellied fool this is!
Why, the Archbishop of York approves of the plan, and how it’s progressing. Damn! If I were with this imbecile right now, I’d break his head open with his wife’s fan.
Don’t we have my father? And my uncle, and me? Edmund Mortimer, York, and Owen Glendower? And besides, don’t we have Douglas? Haven’t they all sent me letters, promising to meet me with their armies by the ninth of next month? And aren’t some of them on their way already?
What an unbelievable a** this is! Faithless! Ha! Just watch; he’ll run to the King in cold fear and spill our secrets. Oh, I could split myself in two and knock my own self senseless for unfolding this important plan to such a coward.
To hell with him! Let him tell the King; we’re ready. I’ll set off tonight.